


Right Side of Wrong

by wicked_writings



Category: Slipknot
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Motorbike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 13:27:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked_writings/pseuds/wicked_writings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally written for a prompt asked for a Jim/Joey and involving Jim's bike. 3 years later, I have finally finished it! :P</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of FICTION. As far as I am aware, this never happened (except in my dirty little mind, and you don't want to go there). I have no association with any of the people featured in this made-up story and I make no money from its publication. And yes, I am very ashamed.

Joey sighed for the seventeenth time that day. He didn't even know why he was bothering... this obviously wasn't going to work. Ok, so he was a _bit_ old to be playing with stuff like this, but heck, it was fun. And what other people didn't know, wouldn't bother them. It would be Joey's own little secret.

And he would hide it where Jim would never see it. Never ever.

Trying again, Joey bent lower to get a better look. One eye squinting, the other nearly closed, his tongue poked out in concentration, he steadied his grip on the tweezers. _Slow now... careful.... STEADY..._

With all the patience of a saint, Joey managed to lift the cardboard dinosaur bone into place. The thin wooden 'bone' squashed the glistening blob of glue that would bind the two parts of the skeleton together. In theory.

Joey held his breath, and bit his tongue even harder. Eyes still glaring, he waited and watched. And sighed again as the wooden pieces slipped apart.

_Goddammit!!_

Joey resisted the urge to chuck something at the partially made wooden dinosaur skeleton. He'd spent hours already putting together what he had done so far, and it would be stupid to destroy it now. But that didn't mean he wasn't still pissed off.

Muttering curses under his breath, Joey picked up the box. An immaculate picture of the dinosaur skeleton was on the front, and that was what he'd hoped his would look like. After all, it was intended for kids. And being an adult, shouldn't Joey have no problems?

It appeared it was slightly beyond him.

_No!_ Joey thought suddenly. _This isn't me... it's the stupid cheap glue!_ The blue tube of glue that had accompanied the parts of the skeleton smirked up at him from its place on the table. It wasn't strong enough. If it was, it would hold the parts together and Joey would have his model. 

He pouted. Blaming the glue was certainly better than blaming himself for being unable to complete something that was aimed at “8 years and above!”. He decided not to think about that though, and find a way around it.

He had a house. That he was sitting in. And he had stuff... lots of stuff. Surely, he had glue? Better glue. Glue that worked.

His mind drew a blank. He wasn't sure if he even bought stuff like that... handy stuff that belonged in an office. And he didn't like offices. Hence, not buying anything that belonged in one. But.... he did have superglue. He'd bought some to try and repair a music award he'd broken when he accidently knocked it off the shelf. And that _had_ to work. The award was still in one piece, anyway.

It took a few moments for Joey to remember where he'd put it. Thinking hard, he recalled a box of junk marked 'random shit' in the garage. And as he'd had nowhere to put the glue, it'd ended up in there.

Frustrated at having to get up and search for the glue, Joey stomped to the garage. It was dark and eerily quiet inside, and Joey quickly turned on the light. The garage had become the recipient of everything that didn't have anywhere else to go during his move, and Joey had never bothered to sort it out. He figured that if he didn't miss it, he didn't need it anyway.

His car took up most of the space. It wasn't much, just an oldish BMW. It got him from A to B, and that was all he wanted. He didn't care much for cars, finding all the talk of engines and rpms and traction control a little sleep-inducing.

Boxes left over from the move were stacked in front of his car; full of what, Joey had no idea. And he couldn't be arsed looking. He knew the box he wanted wasn't in that stack, so he turned his attention to the other side of the garage.

There, it was his boyfriend's second love that took pride of place. Well, Jim often had to reassure Joey that he loved him more than anything in the world, and that his motorcycle was just a hobby.

Well, it was sure a pretty obsessive hobby.

Joey swore Jim spent more time polishing and working on his precious bike than with him. He was quite sure he wasn't jealous (how could you be jealous of a motorbike, anyway?) but he knew it irritated him sometimes.

Like when he wanted Jim to come to bed, but he was too busy fixing the cylinder. Or something like that, anyway. Then there were the times Joey wanted Jim to come with him in the car to band practices and rehearsals, but Jim insisted on riding his bike instead because it was such a nice day to ride.

So, there were periods when Joey became convinced the motorcycle was really Jim's first love, and he was relegated to a miserable second.

Not that he was jealous, of course.

Pretending not to notice the bike, Joey made for the shelves that stood behind it. He was pretty sure the box he wanted was kept on there somewhere. Scanning the shelves, Joey searched. _God, he had a lot of shit_. And why on earth did he have a box full of broken drumsticks? He stared at it in disbelief. The wild thought that he could make a bonfire with the sticks and dance around it chanting entered his mind. He dismissed it with a chuckle and moved on.

There. Third shelf, middle. Yeah.... right behind the bike. It was going to be hard to get to. Rolling his eyes, Joey tried shuffling between the bike and the shelf. No go. Tiny as he was, there just wasn't enough room.  
 _Why couldn't Jim have parked the bike in the middle? Where there was... room?_

Getting really annoyed now, Joey lightly kicked one of the tyres. The bike wobbled slightly, before resting back on its stop. Feeling no better now that he'd tried to take his frustration out on it, Joey studied the shelf. If he shuffled to the end of the bike... and leaned... he _just_ might be able to reach the box. So he tried.

Holding onto the shelf with one hand and reaching out with the other, Joey leaned forward on one foot. The bike was a gleaming black menace beneath him, and he tried not to look at it.

His fingertips just brushed the box. He couldn't quite get a hold – he needed to be closer. Pursing his lips, he tried to bring his foot a little nearer. He got maybe an inch or so. It meant he was now touching the bike, but that didn't matter.

Lunging for the box, Joey felt his fingers slide over the rim of the cardboard. And his knee bump into the bike. Grabbing the box, he pulled it back towards him.

And watched in horror as the bike began to tip. Knocked off balance by the shunt, it keeled towards the floor.

Joey cringed as it crashed onto the cement floor. The echo rang through the garage, and through his head.

Jim was going to kill him.

Thanking his lucky stars his boyfriend wasn't at home, Joey hurriedly put the box down and bent over the bike. Taking a hold of the handlebars, Joey tried to heave it upright. It was damn heavy. Eventually though, he managed to get it into somewhat of a standing position. Kicking the stand back out again, he gingerly let it go.

It settled still, and stayed up. Joey let out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. He could feel himself shaking slightly. Whether it was from the sight and sound of the bike falling or the thought that he might have damaged his boyfriend's most precious possession, he didn't know.

Anxiously, he studied the metalwork. He wasn't very familiar with it in the first place, so it was hard to tell if anything had been damaged.

But there was no mistaking the gash and cracking on the engine casing.

Oh god. He was going to die.


	2. Chapter 2

Joey was rooted to the spot in horror. What had he done?!  
Carelessness had resulted in him damaging the bike that Jim worshipped. He could see the anger on Jim's face now, hear the disappointed and angry tone of his voice.

He swallowed hard. What the fuck was he going to do? He couldn't admit he'd been reckless. After all, he knew he could have watched out for it better.

And he didn't want Jim to think he'd done it on purpose. Sure, he got a bit fed up sometimes with Jim's pandering, but he would _never_ damage it deliberately. He could curse at it, glare at it or fantasise about setting it alight, but he wouldn't follow through on anything.

Sighing shakily, he sunk to the ground. The floor was hard and cold, but he didn't notice. He stared at the bike until the tears in his eyes blurred his vision too badly to see.

_Damn! Damn damn damn!_

Joey felt awful. Guilt and remorse pricked at his conscious. He hugged his knees to his chest, and after a while found himself rocking backwards and forwards.  
 _Great, now he was going mad._

Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Jim standing in front of him, face flushed with anger. What would he do? Would he yell and curse at Joey, apoplectic with rage at the near destruction of his prized bike, venomous words crushing Joey in two? Or would he be simmering mad, but calm on the exterior? Pretending that it was ok, when really he was seething mad?

Or... worst of all... would he be disappointed? Telling Joey it was alright, but saddened by his lack of respect for the bike that meant so much to him?

Joey could see him shaking his head, let-down by his boyfriend's behaviour. And it chilled him to the bone. Jim was his everything... the reason Joey got through the bad days. He loved him so much, and he couldn't believe he had compromised the amazing relationship he had.

Joey didn't want Jim to be angry at him. He wanted everything to go back to normal – he'd even put up with the bike if it repaired itself. But of course, that wouldn't happen.

So he had to think of how he was going to get out of this mess.  
Could he fix the casing? With what, _superglue?_ Joey scoffed. Superglue was the reason he'd come in here in the first place. He wasn't particularly taken with the stuff anymore.

And besides, he'd never get it totally right. The crack was like a spider web, with threads in all directions. Glue couldn't hide the lines, it could only bind the edges together.

He could pretend he knew nothing about it. But the guilt only worsened at that thought. It was cowardly beyond belief, and Joey knew Jim would definitely be disappointed if he ever found out it was him. And Joey couldn't deceive him like that.

There was really only one thing for it. He would have to get it professionally fixed. But that involved finding someone to do it, sneaking the bike out and then covering up its absence, which would be near impossible. And then he'd have to pay off whoever did the repair so they would never tell Jim.

Unless... they came and did it here....  
Joey brightened slightly. That way, he wouldn't have to actually take the bike. He would just have to get Jim out of the house for however long it took to fix the bike. Hopefully, it would only be a few hours.

And not cost too much.

Thanking the gods that they still had separate bank accounts, Joey vowed that cost shouldn't matter. It was Jim's bike, after all. Joey had broken it, and it was his responsibility to fix it.

Without Jim finding out. In the meantime, how could he keep him away from the bike so he didn't see it? It would be hard. Jim liked to kiss it goodnight.  
Joey winced. It wouldn't be easy... but he had to do it.

The bike stood quite innocently on its stand, but Joey hated it. Not only did it take up some of Jim's time that Joey thought was better spent on him, but now he was in a right mess because of it. Life just wasn't fair.

Joey stood up carefully. The box was still sitting on the floor, its contents obvious to the eye. Just out of spite, Joey kicked it. And kicked it again. It just slid across the floor, scraping noisily. And just like when he'd kicked the bike, Joey felt no better.

He knew he was sulking, but he couldn't help it. Everything had gone wrong. He stared down into the box, not seeing anything.

It was a few moments before he realised the tube of superglue was in his line of sight. Bending down slowly, he enclosed it in his fist.

The box. He'd have to put it back. But there was no way Joey was going near the bike again, lest he knock it over again and cause more damage. He'd have to put the box somewhere else.

Betting that Jim didn't even realise the box existed or that it occupied a space obstructed by his bike, Joey eased it onto another shelf. It could stay there and rot.

He was turning to leave the garage when a thought occurred to him. He ought to cover up the bike. He knew that chances were, Jim would see the cover and wonder why on earth Joey had thrown it over the bike. Considering Joey didn't like the bike at all, it would be downright odd.

But if there was a cover, it might divert Jim's attention just long enough for Joey to pull him away if he decided it needed an inspection. So Joey rummaged around in his garage for something to toss over it. Nothing really seemed suitable, until he spotted a box labelled 'bed sheets'. Perfect.

Quite obviously, his mother had packed this box for him when he'd moved out. Because he'd never bought bed sheets in his life. The sheets on his bed had come with the mattress.

Pulling one particularly hideous, patterned number out of the box, Joey raised an eyebrow at it and stuffed it back. A few seconds later, a plain white sheet came into view and he tugged it free. It would do nicely.

Within a few moments, the metallic black monster was sheathed under a white tent. Joey could see the handlebars poking out, appearing like two hands rising to grab him. He shivered, and decided to get away from the scene of the crime.

Switching off the light, Joey didn't look behind him. He closed the door firmly, wishing there was a lock on it. But Jim would only question it, and then what would he say?

Walking slowly back to the kitchen, Joey paused in the doorway. His half-finished dinosaur model was still on the table, waiting for him to complete it. It was at that point Joey remembered the tube he clutched in his hands.

Unfurling his fist, he stared down at the object on his palm. This tube was red instead of blue, and half the size. But now, Joey had no desire to carry on with his project. Continuing his walk, Joey headed over to stand by the table. It was going to be another half an hour before Jim got home. Just enough time to clean up.


	3. Chapter 3

When Jim pulled up the drive in his car, it was already pitch dark out. His errand had taken a lot longer than he'd expected, and he was late. He hoped Joey wasn't angry at him.

Thankful to be rid of his uncomfortable driver's seat, Jim climbed out of the car. He was looking forward to a night of snuggling on the couch with Joey watching a movie, and then maybe having a tinker with his bike in the garage. There were a few things he wanted to try out, and he was eager to get started.

The lights were out in the entrance hall and kitchen, which was odd. Jim fumbled for the light switch, blinking when the lights blazed on.

“Joey?”

The house seemed empty. He stepped inside properly and closed the door. It wasn't like Joey to not be waiting for him. He hoped he was ok. He was just about to call out his name again when someone called from downstairs.

“Jim? I'm down here.”

Smiling, Jim bounded down the stairs. Despite having only been out for a few hours, he missed Joey and was keen to see him. The drummer was curled up on the couch, watching ‘The Lost Boys’ on the television. 

“Hey!” Jim said happily. “Do you ever stop watching this movie?”

Joey managed a smile. He'd been wracked with nerves when he'd heard Jim's car returning, his stomach tied in knots. And his boyfriend looked so happy to see him, which only worsened Joey's guilt.

“Babe? You ok?” Jim had stopped just short of the couch. Joey didn't look very well. His face was drawn, and his smile hadn't reached his eyes. Already, Jim felt his contentedness begin to shift. If Joey was sick, he was unhappy.

Joey just nodded, but he knew Jim wasn't convinced. The guitarist sat down next to him, opening his arms for a hug. Despite his anxiety, or because of it, those arms were the most welcoming thing Joey had ever seen. He didn't hesitate to climb onto Jim's lap. He wrapped his own arms around Jim's neck, burying his head in his chest. Jim was holding him tightly, and Joey drunk it in. 

Jim nuzzled his face into Joey's hair, breathing in the cherry-almond scent. He was worried now. It wasn't like Joey to be so withdrawn and quiet. Usually, he would be waiting by the door when he heard Jim's car coming up the drive, not hiding downstairs. He really hoped he wasn't getting sick.

After a while, he pulled Joey up onto his lap properly and reclined on the couch. It was nice, laying there holding Joey, who was still hiding his face in his chest. Jim stroked his hair idly, and heard Joey sigh softly.

On the screen, Sam was taking a bath, his dog beside him on the floor. Jim knew this part. Actually, he knew all of it. Joey was obsessed with this movie – it never seemed to get old for him. Jim didn't mind it, which he was thankful for. It would have driven him crazy a long time ago if he did.

But it seemed not even Joey's favourite movie was cheering him up. He didn't even appear to be watching it, his eyes closed.

“You tired?” Jim asked quietly.

“No...” Joey muttered softly in a voice that told Jim he really was.

“C'mon, then.”

As much as he was enjoying snuggling with Joey on the couch, he'd be better off in bed. Joey didn't even protest as he was lifted, Jim easily carrying him. He had made the trek from the den to their bedroom many times carrying Joey. Sometimes, it was because he was passed out – from either alcohol or exhaustion. Other times, it was the closest Jim ever got to being romantic.

Now, he tenderly held Joey close as he slowly ascended the stairs. He was careful to make sure Joey didn't hit the walls as he turned into the corridor, heading for their room. After laying him gently on the bed, Jim crossed the room to close the curtains. Even though they were practically out in the country and their nearest neighbours were hardly next door, Joey still insisted on the curtains being pulled to. He wouldn't relax until they had been. It was one of his quirks, and Jim thought it was cute.

Jim flopped down next to Joey. The drummer mumbled as he felt Jim's weight wobble the bed. His eyes were closed, face still pale. Jim stroked a few messy strands of hair back over his ear, stroking his smooth skin. The smaller man had to be very close to sleep. He reached down to unbutton Joey's jeans. Pulling them off, he didn't bother to fold them and just chucked them away instead. He could pick them up later. Right now, he just wanted to get Joey comfortable so he could sleep.

“Babe?” he whispered, leaning closer to Joey. “Go to sleep, ok? I'll be down in the garage with my bike if you need me.”

He was unprepared for Joey to sit up as fast as he did. He was shocked to see that Joey could go from nearly asleep to wide-eyed so quickly.

“What's the matter?”

Joey could feel his heart pounding in his chest. _He mustn't let Jim see the bike!_

“Um, can't you stay with me? Please? Don't go downstairs, I want you here with me.” He reached out a hand for Jim, trying to stop him leaving.

Jim saw his hopes of working on his bike tonight vanish. But he didn't mind. Joey needed him, and that was always more important than his bike.

“Yeah, of course I will. I won't go anywhere.”

Joey lay back down, contented for the moment. _Crisis averted._ For now, anyway. He watched Jim as he stripped, his lithe, lean body fit and tan under his clothes. He always affected Joey...

The drummer sat up, removing his own shirt. He wanted Jim. The tiredness that had plagued him before disappeared. Jim smiled when he saw. He knew what that meant. He slid his boxers down his legs, discarding them. Joey did the same. _God_.... this was gonna be better than any night fiddling with his bike.

He flicked the light switch behind him, leaving only the illuminated bedside light glowing. He could still see Joey on the bed, his legs spread and waiting for him. _He loved this part..._

Climbing onto the bed, Jim crawled over the bed sheets until he reached Joey. Straddling him, but careful not to press any of his weight down onto the tiny drummer, Jim reached down to kiss the lips that were teasing him. He could feel Joey's hands in his hair, tangling but never pulling. He kept the kiss slow and sweet, despite the longing he could feel radiating from Joey.

“Mmmmmm....” Joey moaned as Jim sat up again. “Why did ya stop?”

Jim just smiled wickedly. He bent down again, but not to capture Joey's lips. Languidly and sensually, he licked the sensitive skin under his ear. Beneath him, Joey drew in a shuddering gasp, his back arching on the mattress.

“Shit.... Jim!”

Joey grasped the guitarist's shoulders, pulling him down closer. Jim could feel his lover's chest panting for air; soft downy hair on warm damp skin brushing against him. He let his tongue drag over the same spot, making Joey shiver and moan quietly.

It was like sweet torture. The pleasure was surging through his veins but he wanted so much more – he wanted Jim so badly he couldn't speak. All he could do was grip him hard, his fingernails digging into Jim's skin and drawing blood. He was gasping, he could tell that much, his lungs struggling for breath as his body seemed to expand with ecstasy.

Jim kissed him gently, lips staying long and soft. He couldn't feel the pain from Joey's fingers, only his desperation. He let his hand slide lower, gliding down between Joey's thighs. The drummer was hard, his erection smearing precum all over his belly. He slid down further, feeling Joey spread his legs for him.

He rubbed him gently, watching the pleasure show on his partner's face. Joey tilted his head back and moaned as Jim slid a finger inside him, his toes curling in ecstasy. Jim licked his way down Joey's collarbone, nipping at the skin and soothing with a kiss. He began to thrust his finger in and out slowly, and felt Joey tighten around him.

He heard his boyfriend moan his name, and smiled before he kissed his sweet lips softly. Joey opened his eyes to look at him, already panting for breath.

“Jim... please....”

Then there was a hand on his cock, encouraging him. Joey was stroking him gently, the hint evident in his eyes. Jim smiled. He sat up, resting on his knees. He reached over Joey to the bedside table and eased the top drawer open carefully, searching inside for the small bottle of lube. Not bothering to close the drawer, he settled back on the bed. Joey watched him though lidded eyes as he cracked the top open and poured the clear liquid onto his palm.

With patience and care he prepared Joey, knowing better than to rush. He enjoyed it too – he'd never been one to skimp on the foreplay. It always heightened the rush he got from sex. This time though, Joey told him with a touch on his wrist that he was ready. Jim smiled and let his fingers slide out before smearing the rest of the lube over his erection. He readjusted his position on the bed, leaning down to kiss Joey as he began to slide inside the drummer.

Joey moaned into the kiss as he felt himself being penetrated, and the sudden flow of pleasure arched his back and made his skin shiver. Jim broke the kiss to let him gasp for air, smiling as his partner lost control. Teasing, he controlled his movements, holding himself still inside Joey. It only drove the smaller man even crazier, and he was soon crying out for more.

“Jim! God!”

Joey wrapped his legs around Jim's waist, encouraging him to move. Jim gave in, thrusting gently. He knew Joey could take it harder, but after seeing how tired he was before he didn't want to push him. It was telling that Joey didn't pout and make him go faster, like he usually did. 

He was happy to oblige, and settled himself carefully around his partner. Joey tucked his head into his neck, alternately whimpering and kissing his hot skin. He could feel his tiny hands in his hair, fingers wrapped around his curls. It wasn't hard to get lost in the moment, and he closed his eyes as his body quivered with pleasure.

“Oh Joey....” he whispered, closer to his beloved than ever before. Joey kissed him harder in response, his hands tightening in his hair. Jim felt tempted to thrust harder, but managed to control himself and continue his pace, unwilling to hurt Joey.

He slid a hand down over Joey's hard stomach and wrapped his fingers around his cock, massaging him gently to the rhythm of his hips. Joey's body stiffened in response and Jim could hear him starting to moan, and felt his legs grip his waist even stronger. Joey's head fell back against the pillow and Jim couldn't help but watch him, that beautiful face that had captured him since the day they'd met. He still wondered every day how someone like Joey could come to be his, and he felt like the luckiest guy in the world. Just sometimes, it was hard to put into words. He hoped Joey knew how much he loved him.

Joey's eyes were closed softly, his red lips parted. Jim bent to kiss them, and felt those lips yield to his.

“I love you,” he heard Joey whisper as he stretched to kiss his earlobe.

“I love you too, baby,” he said quietly back, gathering up Joey in his arms.

“Fuck me...” Joey breathed against him, his eyes still closed and soft.

Jim watched him as he shifted closer, starting to thrust deeper in response. Joey groaned, his teeth clenched, and arched his back as Jim strengthened the pace. He felt his boyfriend's lips kiss him over and over, and let himself give in to him. He forgot about everything, forgot about his worries, forgot about the stupid bike. For now, he and Jim were as close as two people could be.

Then came the moment, and he held his breath as his body spasmed, shaking as his intense orgasm washed over him in never-ending waves and caused his nerve endings to explode in bliss. Jim was shuddering against him too, muttering his name over and over, his hands tight and still against Joey's body.

A moment passed before he sighed, body relaxing. Lips muzzled Joey's shoulder and kissed him softly, before Jim rolled over to lay next to him. Arms gathered around the tiny drummer and pulled him close, and in his sleepy, satiated state Joey was happy to snuggle up to Jim. Barely able to keep his eyes open any more, he gave in and let them close. He wanted to savour the satisfied feelings, but sleep rushed over him swiftly and he succumbed.


	4. Chapter 4

Jim was usually the first one to wake in the morning, but as he eased his eyes open he could sense the empty space next to him. He turned his head slowly, though he knew Joey wasn't there. Sliding his hand under the cover he felt the cold mattress and realised his partner had been gone for a while. Confused, he sat up slowly.

“Joey?”

There was no answer. The bathroom door stood open, and he could see it was empty. Chucking aside the covers, he stepped out of bed and pulled his clothes on. A quick glance at the clock told him it was just past 8.30am.Taking the steps two at a time, he hurried down to the kitchen. It was as empty as the living room, and Jim stood for a while, confused. 

“Joey?” he called a little louder, hoping he wasn’t far away. It wasn’t like Joey to just disappear. 

“Jim?” It was quiet, but close. Jim turned around and saw Joey standing just inside the ranch slider doors that lead to the deck.

“Oh there you are,” Jim said with obvious relief. He wasn’t sure why he was so worried, Joey was a grown man and could do what he wanted, but all the same it was out of character. 

“Sorry, I was just outside. It’s nice day.” The words were honest, but Jim couldn’t help but feel Joey was holding something back. The drummer was standing awkwardly, a slight blush on his cheeks, and though Jim hated to be suspicious he couldn’t help but think something was up. He tried to dismiss the thought, but it lingered at the edge of his mind. 

“Come on, I’ll make breakfast,” he said, hoping the activity would take his mind off it and fulfil the need his stomach was currently reminding him of. 

*

Joey ate his pancakes quickly. Normally they dawdled over breakfast, taking the time to enjoy the food, the weather and being together. That morning though, Joey seemed as if on a constant edge. Jim asked him what was up, but the drummer dodged the question. He was fidgeting, something he only did when he was nervous. 

Just when Jim was about to cave in to his better judgment and ask Joey again what was bothering him, the phone rang. Joey didn’t make a move to get the phone, so Jim reached over his plate for the cordless. 

“Hello?”

“Jim!”

“Shawn?”

“Hey dude!” 

Jim was even more confused now. If it was odd for Joey to be up before him and watching the sunrise (or something equally suspicious) it was even more odd for Shawn to be calling him so early. Normally this was time he spent with his kids, either playing with them on the weekends or dropping them at school if it was a weekday. His skin was practically prickling. Something was definitely up, and he did not like not being in the loop. 

“What do you want?” he asked Shawn, not caring that he sounded rude. 

Shawn didn’t seem to care. “I just wanted to see if you could come over and rehearse a few new tracks with me.”

Jim sighed. This was _definitely_ out of character. Shawn hardly ever asked him out to come around to rehearse. But by now, he was resigned to the fact that the universe seemed to be hiding something from him. And he hadn’t ruled out the idea that Joey and Shawn were maybe in cahoots. 

“Sure,” he said, not sounding very enthusiastic but not caring. 

Shawn hardly seemed to notice. “Great! See you here in say, 30 minutes?”

“No problem.”

“And can you bring a guitar?”

“Of course.” _There went being able to ride his bike. At least that would have cheered him up._

“Good! Don’t be late!” Dial-tone. Shawn had practically hung up on him. At least that wasn’t out of character. 

“What did Shawn want?” Joey asked, innocently licking his fork devoid of maple syrup. 

“He wants me to go around and practice with him, bring a guitar… wait, how did you know it was Shawn?”

Joey looked startled for a moment, like he was guilty of something, but he quickly relaxed. “You said his name on the phone, remember?”

 _True_. “Oh yeah. Sorry.”

Joey shrugged. “It’s ok. When are you leaving?”

“Um, soon as I’ve done the dishes.”

“I can do them. You can go if you want.” Now Joey was offering to do the dishes. Jim couldn’t help but think Joey wanted him out of the house for something. _But what?_ He felt a bit hurt by the idea, that Joey would hide something from him. They rarely held things back from each other. 

“Um, ok.” _Well, if Joey wanted him gone, he’d go_. Deciding he was definitely annoyed by whatever was going on, he left his dishes as they were and headed straight upstairs to fetch his things. He knew it was a bit abrupt but right at that moment he didn’t care. 

“Aren’t you going to say goodbye?” Joey asked when he came back downstairs, a hint of hurt in his voice. Jim was prepared to ignore him, or just wave, but when he turned and saw Joey sitting there he knew he couldn’t. 

“Yeah, um, I’m sorry.” He put his guitar case on the couch and went over to Joey, who was still perched on a stool. Despite everything, Joey was still his partner. His touch was tender as he stroked his face, and his kiss gentle. 

“Have fun,” Joey said softly as Jim turned to go again. 

“Yeah, well, it’s Shawn, I’ll try,” Jim said with a wry smile. 

Joey watched him go, his feelings of guilt growing with every step Jim took towards the door. Shawn had agreed to get him out of the house, despite not knowing why, and the thought that he was sneaking around two of his best friends was both foreign and disturbing. _At least it’ll fix everything_ , Joey thought. He hopped down from the stool and found the phonebook.


	5. Chapter 5

An hour later, it seemed as though he had finally found someone who was able to come around to have a look at the bike. Joey hadn’t realised just how difficult it would be. At first it seemed as though he was trying the wrong sort of tradesmen. Eventually he hit on motorbike makers, but some were too busy to come out, and others didn’t make ‘house calls’. One only agreed to come out when Joey offered an ‘extra’ on top. 

He wasn’t sure whether to allow himself to relax or not. He still didn’t know if the casing could be fixed, and there was the small matter of how long Jim would be able to put up with Shawn before he gave up and came home. Yesterday, he had figured it would be straight-forward enough to find someone to come around and replace the casing – now he wasn’t sure it would be so easy. 

His stomach was still in knots when the knock came on the door. Joey ushered the man in quickly and shut the door, as if it were some sort of covert operation. _Not far from it, really_ , he thought. He showed the man – Billy - into the garage, where the bike still stood under its white sheet. 

“So, um, can you fix it?” Joey asked nervously as Billy studied the cracks. There was no answer for a moment and Joey found his heart start to race. 

Billy stood up and shrugged. “Sure I can fix it. But I’ll need to manufacture a whole new casing for it. Should take me a few days.”

 _A few days?!_ Joey felt as though the world had come crashing down. There was no way he could hide the problems from Jim for a few days. He knew his partner could only go 24 hours, max, without working on his bike. 

“Uh, ok.” Joey wasn’t quite sure what to say. He hadn’t fully explained the situation to Billy, thinking he didn’t need to know and probably didn’t care either. “Um, can I talk to my partner and get back to you?” he bluffed, not wanting Billy to realise he was doing this behind Jim’s back. 

“No worries,” Billy said amiably, just quite pleased he’d earned a bit extra for doing not much. Joey pressed the cash into his hand as he left, happy to show himself to the door. 

When he’d gone, Joey sat at the kitchen table and resisted the urge to thump his head into the hard wood table top. He settled instead for burying his face in his hands, completely and totally unsure as to what to do next. He figured anyone else he asked about the motorbike would probably say the same thing as Billy. He should have realised it wouldn’t be that easy. 

“Stupid stupid STUPID,” he muttered to himself, feeling like a complete idiot. Jim really was going to kill him. All over a stupid bike that he should have been more careful around. It was probably the same as Jim breaking one of his precious drumkits, not that Jim ever really went near them. 

There was nothing he could do. He didn’t want to cry, but that seemed to be the only thing he was capable of. The tears leaked through his fingers and landed on the table top, but he couldn’t see through the blurring in his eyes. He had no idea how he was going to explain this to Jim.

*

Two hours after he’d arrived at Shawn’s, Jim had had enough. They’d done nothing but muck around, and at one point he’d found himself watching a rerun of M*A*S*H. Shawn didn’t _have_ any new tracks. 

“What the fuck’s going on dude?” he asked Shawn, exasperated. 

“What? I dunno what you’re on about,” Shawn replied, looking decidedly nervous about answering the question. 

“You don’t have any new material. What did you get me over here for?”

“No particular reason,” Shawn said after a pause. He went back to fiddling with a camera. 

Jim wanted to get up and leave. He also wanted to get to the bottom of whatever the fuck was going on. The latter thought won out. 

“Ok, seriously. What the hell is going on?” he asked, and stood up in a desperate attempt to convey just how serious he was. 

Shawn shifted his eyes but didn’t say anything. 

“You’re covering for Joey for something, aren’t you?” Jim accused. 

“…. no…”

“Fucking liar! Just tell me the truth. Please,” Jim pleaded. “I need to know what’s going on.”

Shawn gave in. “Truth is, I dunno what’s going on! Joey phoned me this morning and asked if I could get you out of the house for a couple of hours. I swear, I don’t know why. He sounded desperate.”

“Desperate? Why?” Jim just couldn’t understand. 

“I dunno!” Shawn repeated. “He didn’t say anything about why. Just that it was really important.”

A million possibilities ran through Jim’s head, but none of them made sense. He had no idea why Joey would deliberately get him out of the house. Though he hadn’t been himself… last night he’d been a bit off as well. Things were looking more and more confusing. 

“Fuck it, I’m going home,” Jim said decisively, and Shawn didn’t protest. He grabbed his jacket and his guitar, hurriedly stowing it back in its case. 

“See you,” Shawn said with a little wave, as if nothing had happened, and Jim didn’t bother to reply. 

*

He raced home, disregarding traffic speed limits and general road rules. He made it without killing anyone and parked haphazardly outside the house. Nothing looked any different. No strange cars, nothing. 

“Joey?” he called as soon as he made it out of his car. The house was shut up and quiet, but he was convinced his partner was still home. 

He took the stairs as fast as he could, and nearly took the door off its hinges as he entered. He dumped his jacket over the couch and looked around.

“ _Joey?_ ” he called out again, a little more desperate this time. 

There was no answer. The living room and kitchen were deserted, and a quick look around the first floor showed no-one anywhere. He debated with himself for a moment as to whether to check the top floor or the basement first, and the top floor won out. 

He searched from room to room but Joey was nowhere to be seen. He was desperate now, and worried, and though he would never admit it he was a bit beside himself. Hoping like hell Joey was still home somewhere, he barrelled downstairs. 

“JOEY!!”

He wasn’t expecting an answer, but when it came, it was so faint he nearly missed it. 

“In here.”

The relief at hearing his boyfriend’s voice was quickly overwhelmed by the pain he heard in it. He pushed open the door to the garage with no little trepidation. 

“Jo?” he asked quietly, but before the word even left his lips he saw him. Joey was huddled on the floor in the corner, his arms wrapped around the knees he held to his chest. His long black hair fell over his face but Jim knew he was crying. He didn’t think it was possible for his heart to break and yet keep beating, but it did. 

“Baby?” He knelt down beside Joey. “What’s wrong?”

Joey didn’t answer, he just shook his head and sobbed. 

Jim had never seen Joey in this much pain before. He couldn’t begin to imagine why, but the fact that Joey didn’t seem to _want_ to tell him made him feel a bit hurt. Ok, a lot hurt. He sat on the cold cement next to Joey, and attempted to wrap him up in his arms. The drummer didn’t protest, just turned to tuck his head into Jim’s shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry,” Joey murmured after a while, the words stilted by sobs. “I didn’t mean to do it.”

“Do what?” Jim was both confused and alarmed. He hoped like hell Joey hadn’t hurt himself. 

But the drummer didn’t seem to want to answer. He shook his head, and Jim could see the wet tears slide down his cheeks. 

“Please, for god’s sake, tell me!” Jim pleaded, worried. 

Joey seemed torn. He shook his head again, screwing his eyes up. “You’ll hate me,” he managed to squeak out. 

“No! No I won’t, please tell me Joey!” Jim just couldn’t think what Joey could have done that would make him so upset. He knew in his eyes anyway, Joey could never do anything to make him angry. 

“Joey, _nothing_ you could do could make me hate you,” he said reassuringly. 

Joey seemed to calm a bit, but it was temporary. “This could,” he said, with such heaviness and despair in his voice Jim was shocked. 

“No, no it couldn’t. What do I need to say you make you realise that?” he asked desperately. 

“God I’m so sorry!” Joey practically wailed. 

“Tell me!”

“I broke your bike!” The words escaped Joey before he could stop them. He clamped his hand over his mouth, and through the haze of tears saw Jim looking at him blankly. 

“You what?”

“I broke your bike. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I swear,” Joey said quietly, tears pouring down his cheeks. 

Jim nearly laughed, but stopped himself. _Was that it?_ The relief was indescribable. He’d been terrified that Joey had hurt himself, but all he was upset about was his stupid bike?

“Joey, I don’t care about the bike,” he said quietly. 

“You don’t?” Joey looked up at him, wide-eyed. Jim felt his heart break again. 

“No I don’t. I care about you.”

Joey swallowed a sob. “But you love that bike.”

“Yeah, I do. But I love you more. I don’t care what you did to the bike, Joey. I was so worried about you, and it was about the damn _bike?_ ” He did let a little laugh escape him this time, and it seemed to do the trick. Joey gave a little smile, and Jim could physically feel him relax. 

“You really don’t care?”

“I really don’t care.”

“I knocked it over by accident yesterday and I thought you were going to kill me, I covered it with that sheet so you wouldn’t see and then this morning I got up early to phone Shawn, and he probably told you about that ‘cos you know what Shawn is like but he was the only person I could think of, and then I phoned everyone in the phonebook about the bike trying to get it fixed before you saw it but the only person who could come out said it would take a few days to fix and I knew I couldn’t hide it from you for so long I’m so sorry!” Joey got it all out in a rush, but it felt so good to get it out he didn’t care. 

Jim missed a few words but thought he had the gist, and shook his head. “It was an accident Joey, things like that happen.”

“But I thought you’d be so angry at me.”

_“Why?”_

“Because you love that bike. You spend more time with that bike than with me!” Joey said, looking a bit upset again. 

“No I don’t! Joey! I…” Jim floundered for words. He didn’t spend more time with his bike than with Joey, did he? “I don’t,” he said lamely. “Do I?”

“Sometimes it feels like you do,” Joey said quietly. 

“Oh shit baby… I’m sorry.” Jim felt awful. He hadn’t realised just how over the top his obsession with his bike had become. That Joey had obviously felt so bad about breaking it was testament to that. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know,” Joey admitted. And he did, really. He realised now how stupid he was to honestly think Jim loved a piece of machinery more than him. He needed to stop thinking so irrationally. 

“Just don’t worry about the bike, ok? I can get it fixed, it’s not the end of the world,” Jim said softly. “Now will you get off this damn cold floor and come upstairs with me?”

Joey smiled, and felt like the worries of the world had lifted from his shoulders. “Yeah. I can do that.”

Jim helped him stand, and wobbly though he was through the unnecessary physical expressing of his emotions, Joey soon found his feet. They were nearly through the door when Joey looked back. 

The bike was still sitting there, still covered by the sheet. Yesterday, the shape of the handlebars under the sheet looked like hands rising to grab him. Today, the bike was less monster, more mechanical, just a garble of metal pieces that was cold and lifeless; only in his mind had it existed as more than that, as a physical barrier to their relationship. Now, the bike was broken; it was chipped and cracked with lines webbed across its surface. Joey let himself forget about it; about the accident, about the worry, about the fear. He left the bike sitting in the garage, and walked away with Jim.


End file.
